Hostage
by mollybon
Summary: While doing research for property records Dean and Sam are forced to take a county clerk hostage when she discovers they are wanted by the FBI fuller summary inside
1. Summary & Prologue

Summary: The boys are in small town Americana trying to trace evil that seems to attach itself to random homes in the area. During their research in the county's Registrar's Office they are discovered to be wanted by the FBI. With danger about to strike this small town the boys have no choice but to take the clerk hostage and try to convince her they aren't the danger that should be feared.

Notes: I've only recently discovered Supernatural. Thus far I've only seen the first eight or so episodes of the first season and only the last two of the current season. I've been skimming a few episode guides (but haven't read too in depth to save myself from spoilers!) and this idea was inspired by some of the things I read. As of this date it has not been beta'd – if anyone would like to volunteer please let me know via the review page.

Disclaimer: Although fan fiction is typically considered satire under current U.S. Copyright laws I will state that this original work is not intended to infringe upon the Copyrights held by the creators of Supernatural. In addition the references to real estate transactions are not to be taken as legal advice.

Now:

Branches snapped back at her as she ran scraping her arms and her face. She felt nothing and forced only one word to the front of her mind: run. Nothing else mattered. If she stopped, if she even so much as slowed down they'd catch her. She'd run forever if that's what it took. Before she'd even bolted from the old car she knew the odds of getting away were nil. Both of them had guns and she'd seen what had been hidden in the false bottom of the trunk of the car. They wouldn't even have to touch her to kill her.

Both men were taller than her. What would take her three strides to cover might take the tallest only one. She had spent two days with them alternating between cooperation and defiance; from one to the other and back again. They insisted that what she was told about them was wrong, that they were trying to help people against something evil. The only evil she could readily see was gaining on her as she ran.

The denseness of the woods was giving way to an open area. Someone was up ahead, she couldn't tell if it was friend or foe. Their arms outstretched and something glinted in the sun.


	2. Chapter 1

Then:

Two days ago:

The County of Persuch's Registrars office had operated for 30 years with only two people; the Registrar and one clerk. Melanie Lynch had the dubious honor of being the third. The county was growing. No longer was being close to 100 miles from the largest city a deterrent for those who wanted it all; a home in the country and a job in the city. The County Seat was the City of Maple River and it was experiencing a boom in new home building that had never been seen before. So now the once tiny county needed a second clerk in its Registrar's office. Other county offices were also adding jobs to keep up with the demands of its growth. Several towns were even debating adding police departments rather than relying on the small Sherriff's office.

Melanie stood from her chair where she was entering the latest home's lengthy legal description in the county's database. She stretched her pear shaped frame, long arms reaching above her dark-haired head toward the ceiling. Apparently even as soon as a few years ago Mrs. Russo had been hand entering land records into a thick registrar's roll book. It was tedious enough doing this data entry on a computer, Melanie was thankful she didn't have to do it by hand in the dusty old book. Melanie walked from her desk to the window that looked out onto the main street of town. It was a quiet Friday afternoon. Right now she was the only one in the office, Mrs. Russo had Friday's off and the Registrar, Joe Hudson, was running errands. The town was a throw back to nostalgia and therefore popular among current trends. Brick buildings stood sentry on either side of the oak tree-lined street. There were no chain stores in the main part of town. The pharmacy was the oldest business with a lunch counter that still had a daily blue plate special for $2.99.

Melanie was just about to turn from the window and get back to work when a car pulled to the curb across the street in front of the pharmacy. It was the same car from the day before; an old Chevy that had Joe practically offering the occupants anything they wanted if only so that he could gaze in awe at the thing. The occupants claimed they were federal agents who needed to check the ownership records of older homes in the area. Melanie's bullshit-o-meter had shot straight into the red zone the second she saw them. She hadn't met anyone who tried so hard to convince others they were who they said they were. Aside from that property information was public record, one didn't have to have any kind power granted by the badge of law enforcement to see them.

As the two crossed the street Melanie had a panicked feeling fill her and her mind was commanding her to lock the door, to not let them in. Something wasn't right about those two. "Federal Agents my ass, and I'm going to marry George Clooney," she muttered walking to the counter, knowing they were headed this way. Like the day before both were wearing blue jeans and casual jackets. The day before they had flashed badges but it was to Mrs. Russo who's eye sight was so bad after 25 years of hand data entry they could have been from a Cracker Jack box and she wouldn't have known. All Joe had cared about was the car.

The old sleigh bells rang as the door opened and the pair came in. The tallest one gave her a smile that was almost genuine; it was the other one that rubbed her the wrong way. He was cocky and sure of himself in a way that was irritating. Melanie had a sudden urge to stick her tongue out at him but didn't want to encourage him with the childish gesture.

"We still have a couple of rolls to check," the tallest one said to her. Melanie hesitated before lifting the countertop section to let them in. Her mind was doing that "danger danger" thing again. She walked them back to the conference room and told them to giver her a minute while she grabbed the roll they'd left off with the day before.

"So, Melanie," cocky guy spoke to her as she brought them the first roll. "Do you go by anything else maybe like Mel?" As a matter of fact she did. Her family and friends called her Mellie.

"I go by Melanie," she replied turning to walk back to her desk.

"Ouch," Sam said as Melanie disappeared back toward the front of the office. "I don't think she likes you much."

"Yeah well there's no accounting for taste," Dean replied, flipping open the large, dusty old book.

"Apparently there is," Sam teased his brother.

"Har," Dean replied dryly. "Let's just get to looking so we can move on."

"This would be a lot easier and go a lot faster if these people didn't just come out of the stone ages," Dean said after an hour of pouring through tiny handwriting. Their list of homes was painfully short. They weren't able to find any sort of pattern to explain what was happening in the area. Sam stood up to stretch. He watched from the conference room window as Melanie walked to the photocopier and then answered the phone that was next to it. Dean was talking but Sam wasn't hearing him as he watched her. Something was wrong. Her hand gripped the receiver so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Her body tensed. Her back was to the room they were in so Sam couldn't see her face.

"Sammy, what?" Dean asked realizing that his brother wasn't paying attention to him and was focused intently out the window. Sam didn't answer but instead went over to the phone on the side table. It was an old fashioned office phone and he pushed down the white line button that was lit. Dean stood up and stood next to him to listen in.

"Mellie you need to get out of there right now," a voice was saying. "Can you?"

"I can't just, I can't leave the office with them in it," Melanie replied.

"Melanie, just hang up the phone…" Dean didn't wait to hear what the man who he recognized as Joe was saying. They'd been made and if they got arrested again the feds would lock them up and throw away the key. He hurried from the room. Sam knew his brother was a reactionary. Take charge now and pick up any pieces later.

"Dean…" Sam called after his brother before hanging up the phone.


	3. Chapter 2

Concentrating on the damn legal description wasn't an easy exercise. Distraction filled Melanie as she sat at her desk. She knew she shouldn't be ignoring the inner voice telling her something was very, very wrong. But she was. It was Friday, she had only a few hours to the weekend and plans of sitting on the porch of her old house reading. Not running errands, not cleaning just blissfully doing nothing more than enjoying the warm spring. Listening to the silly voice meant that those precious plans would go to hell. Sighing she eyed the stack of recorded deeds that needed copying. She chose a couple from the top of the stack and walked over to the photocopier doing her best to ignore the room behind her. The phone rang and rather than going back to her desk to answer it she picked up the extension that sat near the copier.

"Persuch Cou…"

"Mellie, thank god," Joe's voice yelled into her ear.

"Joe? What's the matter?" Melanie asked. He sounded more frazzled than normal, almost scared.

"Listen to me, those two agents from yesterday, they said they were coming back. Are they there? Please god tell me they aren't there." Melanie gripped the receiver so hard she thought she'd break her hand. The pressure steadied her from going to her knees as the voice in her head did a full on "told you so" dance.

"Melanie!" Joe's voice yelled and she jumped. Melanie had known Joe her entire life. In 27 years she'd never heard him raise his voice and he'd never once called her Melanie. Something was beyond wrong.

"They, they've been here for about a half hour. What's going on?"

"They aren't agents. They're wanted by the damn FBI. For murder. And the one, the smart ass, he beat the hell out of a woman. You need to leave. Mellie, you need to get out of there right now? Can you?"

"I can't just, I can't leave the office with them in it," Melanie replied.

"Mellie, just hang up the phone and get out of there right now. I'm calling the Sherriff."

Melanie slammed down the phone and hurried to her desk. She went to pull open the bottom drawer of her desk to get out her purse but the drawer didn't open. She used to work in a large office where everyday she'd locked up her purse. Old habits died hard. She fumbled for the key, her hands shaking as she put it in the lock.

"Please don't come out, please don't come out," she chanted in her mind as she struggled with the stupid old lock in the stupid old desk. She'd managed to get the key in but the lock was catching. "Oh please," she begged the old thing.

"Need some help?" the voice startled her so badly she actually screamed. The smart ass was standing in front of her. She was poised to laugh it off and then make up an excuse that someone was sick, hurt, whatever and they had to close early. Please come back later.

The words froze in her mouth as she looked at him. He knew. It was written all over his face. Melanie realized they must have picked up the phone in the conference room. They'd heard Joe warn her.

"Dean," the other one's voice came from around the corner. Dean wasn't the name that he'd given yesterday. It wasn't even close. _And the one, the smart ass, he beat the hell out of a woman, _Joe's voice rang in her head. Melanie took a step backward as the other man appeared. "Let's just go," he said taking Dean, formerly known as Smart-Ass's arm. His action left an opening she could now get through. Her purse was now irrelevant; she had to get out of the office. Melanie took two tiny steps away from her desk and then ran for the front counter.


	4. Chapter 3

Dean turned around to face his brother. They didn't have time for this. Who knew how long it would take for the Sherriff's office to respond to Joe's call for help? Melanie had to come with them. For one thing they needed someone to interpret most of the information on they records they'd found. For another they couldn't risk the feds on their tail. Most people they had come to know had ultimately covered for them. Right now she was scared but between the two of them Dean knew they could convince her they weren't the people the feds were making them out to be. They didn't have time to do that now. They were going to have to take her with them by force. It sucked but it had to be done.

Dean caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Melanie ran toward the counter. He turned to grab for her but missed. He went after her, catching her just as she'd reached the counter. Dean pulled her against him but she fought, scratching at his arms, trying to kick him. His hand was firmly over her mouth and he had to fight with her to pull her hands and arms down with his free arm. "Melanie, stop fighting me," Dean said to her in the most commanding voice he could manage. He'd end up hurting her just to get her to calm down and that wouldn't go a long way toward their ultimate goal of getting her to trust them.

Sam stepped in front of them, his gun drawn and pointed at Melanie. "Melanie, don't," Sam said in the softer and calmer voice that was so opposite Dean's own in these situations. Dean shouldn't have been as surprised as he was. His baby brother may be a soft heart but Sammy always knew what had to be done and what Dean would need him to do. Right now they had to scare Melanie into submission. The gun managed to do the trick. Melanie froze. Dean waited a few more seconds. She didn't move.

"I'm going to take my hand from your mouth, do not make a sound do you understand?" Dean said to her. Melanie nodded. Slowly Dean pulled his hand away from her mouth. True to her word she didn't make a sound. "Okay now we don't have a lot of time. You're going to call the Sherriff's department and tell them we left right after Joe called and you're going to tell them that we headed east." Slowly Dean let go of Melanie and Sam lowered the gun but kept it by his side. Dean led Melanie back to her desk. "Don't do or say anything stupid," he warned as he picked up the phone and dialed 911. It was answered by a dispatcher almost immediately. Melanie squeezed her eyes shut.

"Sherriff's Department."

"This is Melanie Lynch at the Recorder's Office. Joe Powell called there a few minutes ago I think. Um, the men that were here, they've, they've left…they went east," Melanie said.

"How long ago?" the dispatcher asked.

"Right after Joe called so about five or six minutes ago," Melanie replied.

"And you're alright?" Dean couldn't help himself. He froze waiting for Melanie to answer knowing that their very lives and the lives of so many people were hinging on the answer Melanie was about to give. He watched her bring her hand to her face, covering her eyes.

"Yes," she said. "I'm fine."

Sam felt the air leave his body in a rush as Melanie slowly hung up the phone. Dean stood on one side of her, Sam on the other. She wrapped her arms around herself.

"Just go," she said. "They think you're going east so go north, south or west but just go."

"You're coming with us," Dean said to her, reaching for her arm. She pulled back.

"No, I'm not," defiance entered her voice. "You're leaving here, now and I'll tell them whatever story you want me to but I am not going with you."

"Yes, you are," Dean said. "I'm going to get our stuff from the conference room and then we're getting the hell out of here." Dean turned and hurried down the hallway. Sam bent down to the desk drawer that had a key in the lock. Melanie had been trying to get into it when Dean confronted her after Joe's call. He turned the key and opened the drawer pulling out a purse. He shut the drawer and looked at Melanie. He'd seen a lot of scared people since he'd joined up with Dean months before. Melanie was as scared as they came. She had every right to be.

"We need your help, Melanie, and like Dean said we don't have a lot of time," Sam spoke to her, handing her the purse. They needed to try and get through to her and the faster the better. "What Joe told you isn't the truth."

"You're not wanted by the FBI?" she asked, disbelieve in her voice.

"No, I mean yes, but we didn't do what they say we did," Sam answered her.

"Of course not," Melanie replied and sat heavily in her desk chair. Sam stepped up to her and crouched so that he was eye to eye with her. Her dark brown eyes were full of tears she'd been struggling to hold back. This woman wasn't going to be a victim to anyone; she was strong and stubborn probably far more than she knew. Sam hated knowing they'd have to be the ones to test that strength. They didn't have a choice, they rarely did. Melanie wouldn't look directly at him. He put his hands on the arms of her chair.

"Melanie, look at me," Sam said to her; a request, not a command. Her eyes met his. Fear, defiance, strength, anger were all there. "I promise you, we aren't going to hurt you," he said slowly, his voice almost a whisper. To his surprise she leaned forward slightly.

"You pulled a gun on me," she said, "How am I supposed to believe anything that you say to me?"

"She's got you there, Sammy," Dean's voice said from above him. Sam stood up.

"Speaking of guns," Dean said, reaching down to grab for Melanie's arm to pull her up. "We're walking outside and getting into our car, if you scream or call out or try to run I'll shoot you."

"Will you let me leave a note?" Melanie asked as they reached the counter. Sam's stomach clenched. God she thought they were going to kill her.

"Melanie, no," Sam was about to tell her that wasn't necessary. She'd see everyone she loved again soon. God this job sucked sometimes.

"I want to leave a note on the door that we closed early," she replied. Sam looked over at his brother who nodded. It was probably a good idea actually.

"Fine but hurry up," Dean said to her. Melanie went back to her desk and scribbled something on a large post-it about the office closing early, sorry for the inconvenience and they'd re-open Monday at 8:00am. Sam watched her walk to the counter and lift the door so they could leave the office. When she shut it there was a yellow post-it that hadn't been there before. He discreetly lifted it off and put it in his jeans pocket.

The trio walked out of the main door and onto the sidewalk pausing to let Melanie put the note on the door and lock it. Dean took her keys and purse from her making a snarky remark about safekeeping. They crossed the street and the closer they got to the car the slower Melanie went. Sam opened the back passenger side door for her to get in. He felt her hand on his arm.

"Sam, please," she said to him softly.

"Get in the car, Melanie," he said to her. "Everything's going to be okay."


	5. Chapter 4

My thanks to those of you who have read and have reviewed -

The seat was hot from being in the sun. It was black leather with white seams spaced about two inches apart. Melanie forced herself to memorize everything she could about this car. If she got away, no, when, _when_ she got away she'd need to be able to describe it. If was no longer a word in her vocabulary, it couldn't be. If meant doubt and there couldn't be doubt. She had to keep it together. They could have killed her back in the office and they didn't, although, that might not mean anything. Sam, the one she'd though of as being so genuine, had pointed a gun at her. She shut her eyes at the memory and opened them to watch the town she'd lived in for most of her life fly by. They were headed west, toward the old highway which was now no more than a back-country two-lane road with very little traffic.

She alternated between taking in details about the men in the front seat and the car to focusing on landmarks and mile post signs. Melanie looked down at her watch; they'd only been driving about a half hour. Something in the background caught her attention and she realized it was music, old rock and roll being played at an almost mute volume. She looked at the console between Dean and Sam. There was a tape player. She looked back to the window. The doors had manual locks. Melanie stared at the one on her door in wonder. The locks weren't electronic; they couldn't be controlled by the driver. She could pull it up, yank the handle and get out. Right now the car was moving too fast and the area they were in was too desolate. The best she could hope for if she bailed now would be that she didn't break every bone in her body.

Melanie checked her watch again. They'd been driving for 37 minutes. By now Joe was back at the office probably with several Sherriff's deputies. She prayed Joe would find the note she'd put on the counter top. She had quickly written it out after writing the note for the door. Melanie had managed to lay it on the counter top on their way out the door praying that Dean and Sam hadn't seen her. Once Joe saw it he would know immediately that she was in trouble. It was a small hope but it was something to cling to as they got further and further away from town.

Dean was taking old ranching and logging roads as Sam helped navigate with a map. They acted like people who had done this before. Melanie put her head on the back of the seat and kept her eyes out the window. There wasn't much for land marks this far out. Everything looked the same and was becoming blurry through tears she was trying to keep at bay. She was suddenly so very, very tired.

They had been driving for close to two hours. Melanie hadn't said a word since her "please" to Sam before she got into the car. Dean glanced at her reflection in the rear view mirror. Her head was against the back seat and she was looking out the window. He could tell she was fighting against the fatigue that usually followed an adrenaline rush. He put his attention back on the road in front of him. They'd made a series of turns and were back on a two lane highway this time headed south.

"We should stop soon," Sam said quietly from the seat next to him as he flipped through the photocopied documents from the Registrar's Office.

"Couple more hours," Dean responded. He wanted to try and get as much distance as he could from the town. He glanced back at Melanie who was still maintaining a vigil out the window.

Dean's thoughts drifted to his father as he drove. They still didn't have a clue where he was. Every few weeks he'd send one or the other of his sons a text message that contained coordinates and they'd go to wherever they were led. Dean couldn't help the twinge of hope he'd feel that they'd finally catch up to their dad at one of these places. It hadn't happened yet. He was frustrated. He wasn't used to the amount of research they'd had to do for their jobs lately. It took up way too much time. Dean glanced over at his baby brother who was still flipping through the documents, a pencil tapping lightly at the page he was looking at. That research had not only cost them a lot of time already but now they were holding a hostage because of it. He hated not being able to just get to a job and take out whatever the problem was and move on to the next. Sammy was good at this kind of stuff. Dean had a suspicion that he almost enjoyed it though Sam would never admit that to Dean.

Dean wasn't new to frustration and had developed many ways to cope with the potentially dangerous emotion. Drinking, sex and taking out evil were among his top favorite choices. Loud classic rock that had the bonus of driving baby brother nuts was another and right now his only choice. Yes, annoying Sammy was quickly going to become a top favorite way to fight off frustration, he thought as he cranked the stereo.


	6. Chapter 5

The sudden loudness of music he didn't really like anyway scared the crap out of Sam. He jumped dumping the pile of papers he'd been going through in the process.

"Damn it, Dean," he cursed, as he bent to gather up the papers. He heard Dean give a sarcastic chuckle as he pointed at his ear, pantomiming like he couldn't hear Sam. Sam reached over to turn the volume down but Dean slapped his hand away. "You know it's one thing if you want to make me deaf but in case you've forgotten we have a passenger and your speakers are right next to her head," Sam yelled above the music. Dean turned the music down only slightly as he glanced at Melanie in the rear view mirror.

"You're welcome," Dean said to her in the grating sarcasm that Dean reserved only for those who'd either pissed him off or were possessed. Sam punched him in the arm.

"Don't do that," Sam said to him. Dean's response was to roll his eyes. Melanie didn't deserve the full experience that was Dean Winchester when he was agitated. She was already getting the experience that was both of them against her will. Most people had a choice and the lucky ones knew what they were in for.

Sam shifted in his seat to look back at Melanie. In almost three hours she hadn't said a word. "Hay," he said to her, drawing her attention from the window to him. "We're going to be stopping soon. And just ignore my brother, he's always been a pain in the ass." Melanie just nodded.

"Who's older?" she asked quietly before Sam could turn fully back around in his seat. Sam almost smiled at the question. He'd been hoping for an opening to a conversation with her. If he could get Melanie to talk they could start to explain to her what was really going on and hopefully get her to trust them.

"He is," Sam replied. Melanie nodded again as she faced the window.

"I have an older brother, too," she said softly. "He and his wife just had their first baby. I haven't been to see her yet." Sam didn't miss the catch in Melanie's voice as she spoke. "Please just let me go," she said. Her voice was barley audible and Sam wondered if she realized that she'd spoken out loud. There were so many things that Sam wanted to say to her. He knew though that none of them would make a difference and that most were lies. He could say it was okay but it wasn't. He could tell her again they wouldn't hurt her but Sam knew if she tried to make a run for it they might have to. So he said nothing but turned back around in his seat rubbing his hands over his face.

A small roadside motel appeared up ahead.

"Dean, just stop up there," Sam said. "The sooner we stop the sooner we can start to figure out what's going on." He was fully prepared for an argument and was therefore surprised when Dean pulled into the motel's parking lot. Without saying anything Dean got out and went into the manager's office.

"What are we doing?" Melanie asked from the back. Sam turned to face her. Gone was the quiet subdued woman. In its place was the woman who'd tried to fight off Dean in the office. She sat straight up, her whole body tensed, her eyes filled with a mixture of worry and defiance.

"Remember when I said before that we needed your help?" he asked. Melanie hesitated before she nodded. "Well we're stopping here so that we can explain to you what's going on and see if you can't help us."

"You need a motel to do that?" she asked, her gaze going over Sam's shoulder. He turned around. Dean was making his way back, a key in hand. Sam turned back and watched as her gaze went from Dean to the front seat where he'd put his gun before exiting the car. Melanie's breath caught. Sam tried to see this from her point of view. She was one woman, kidnapped and held by two men who had now pulled over at a motel in the middle of nowhere.

"Melanie, remember what I told you in the office? About not hurting you?" Sam reminded her, praying that she wouldn't try and run and prove him wrong. She shook her head.

"I don't believe you," she said. The driver's side door opened and Dean slid back into the seat, he restarted the car and pulled around to the back of the motel. He parked the car in front of a room on the opposite end of the old building.

"Got us the honeymoon suite," Dean joked as he giggled the room key in the air. Sam grabbed the key out of his hand. "Hay," Dean protested.

Sam got out of the car and slammed the door as hard as he could knowing that the abuse of Dean's precious car wouldn't be tolerated. Just as Sam suspected Dean got out of the car.

"Dude what the hell?" he demanded.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sam said to him. Dean shrugged imitating that he didn't know what Sam was talking about. "Have you forgotten that we've kidnapped and are holding a woman against her will? We pull into an all but abandoned motel and then you make that remark about the Honeymoon Suite thirty seconds after I've tried to reassure her we aren't going to hurt her."

"Okay first of all, Mr. Sensitive, unless she does something stupid before we can get her to help us we _aren't_ going to hurt her and second of all it was a joke."

"It wasn't fucking funny, Dean," Sam said, as he pulled the back passenger door open. Sam ducked his head down. Melanie was still sitting in the same tensed position she'd been in. "Come on, Melanie," he said, offering his hand to help her out of the car. "We owe you an explanation."

Melanie slowly got out of the car and ignored Sam's outstretched hand. Hearing him say that they'd owed her an explanation was the last thing Melanie expected to hear. Reluctantly she followed between the brothers to the door of the motel room. Neither one had pulled a gun on her or made any kind of threatening gesture. Still the idea of walking through that door almost made her sick to her stomach. But there had been something in what Sam had told her in the car before his brother showed back up. And it wasn't just the words, it was the way he'd said them. He seemed almost desperate for her to believe him. Not just believe that they wouldn't hurt her but that they needed her help. Before she could try and make a decision for herself about whether to go in or try and get away she found herself in the room, the door closed behind her.

The brothers walked to the center of the surprisingly spacious motel room and dropped their bags. Melanie noticed that Dean had her purse, which he set on one of the two double beds. The room had a small kitchenette off to the side. A large round dinning room table and chairs circa 1973 sat off to the other side. Sam went to this table and set a backpack on it, pulling out a pile of papers and a laptop. Dean was placing the other bags at various points around the room. Once again Melanie had a feeling like they'd done this many times before. The tone of the laptop turning on made her jump. She'd never been this close to coming completely un-spooled in her life. Every movement each of these men took put her more and more on edge.

"Can I show you this?" Sam asked from across the room. It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her.

"What is it?" she asked, not moving from her spot near the door.

"The land records we took from your office. We're trying to find a pattern," Sam replied. Melanie shook her head.

"A pattern, what do you mean? A pattern of what?"

"We're not exactly sure," Sam replied.

"Is this seriously your name?" Dean's amused voice came from the other side of the room. He sat on the edge of one of the beds, credit-card sized piece of plastic in his hands. Melanie noticed that her purse was open and Dean had her wallet out. She didn't answer him. Melanie had spent the past four hours thinking that every minute was going to be her last, trying desperately to figure out how she could get away from these two and he was going to mock her name. "Dude, you have to look at this. If anyone will appreciate it it'll be you College Boy," he said to Sam. Sam walked over and took the piece of plastic out of his hand.

"It doesn't matter what her name is," Sam said as he reached for her wallet which Dean pulled out of his grasp.

"You're not even curious?" Dean asked him. Sam let out a long suffering sigh and looked at the license. He shrugged.

"So what?" he said. Melanie watched as Sam did a double take at his brother. "Okay wait, are you telling me that you actually watched this movie?"

"No," Dean replied. "I read the book." Sam took a step back from his brother. He actually laughed out loud. Melanie wanted to start screaming and not stop from the tension that filled her and these two were laughing over her name. It was no secret that her full name came from her mother's love of the book and the movie "Gone With the Wind." She loved it so much she wanted to name her children after the characters. Her father had drawn the line when it came to his son but indulged his wife with their daughter, the only concession being that the heroine's name be Melanie's middle name. And so she was christened Melanie Scarlett. Her father often joked with Melanie that while she'd mostly had the personality of her first name's-sake, she could be just as stubborn as her middle name's-sake.

"You read the book? The entire 300 plus page book, you read it? I don't believe it," Sam replied going back to the table. Melanie still hadn't moved. The entire interaction was like a sketch-comedy routine thrown into the middle of a horror movie. Only this was really happening. And it wasn't funny.


	7. Chapter 6

"Yes," Dean said, standing up and swiping back Melanie's driver's license from Sam's hand. "I read the book. We had to read part of it in high school and I ended up reading the whole thing." Sam continued to stare at his brother in disbelieve. "I wanted to know how it would end okay?" Sam held up his hands in mock surrender.

Okay so that was only partly true. Dean had skipped his history class one too many times that year. It was the final class of the day and Dean had often found himself checking out early to help his dad either with hunting or taking care of Sam. The teacher actually wasn't bad. She knew that Dean had responsibilities toward his brother so rather than make him stay even later for detention she told him he had to read the entire book and write a report on it. She gave him specific questions he had to answer; ones that she knew and he found out weren't in the Cliff's Notes or the movie version. Dean really loved to read; it was just a pastime he could never indulge in unless it had to do with hunting. Once he got started he found himself getting into the story of the young, spoiled, southern woman during the Civil War. He remembered writing in his report how he thought that it was Melanie who was the true heroine of the book. She didn't have the outspokenness of Scarlett but she was tough and strong when she had to be, far more really than Scarlett ever was. He wondered just how true to the character she was named for the current Melanie was.

Dean turned and watched as Sam literally had to coax Melanie to his side to show her the documents they'd gotten from her office. He listened as Sam started to explain to Melanie about the houses they'd been investigating. Normally something supernatural attached itself to a specific something, be it a place, a family or a person. This thing, whatever it was, attached itself to houses that didn't seem to have anything to do with one another. As far as they could figure out the families weren't related, the houses had never been owned by the same people and nothing bad had ever happened in any of them. There was nothing they could find that would fit a pattern and it only got worse when they went to the County Recorder's office. Most of the records were old and still in hand written registrar rolls. Neither brother knew much about how real estate worked and trying to find a pattern among the documents had become too time consuming and tedious. That morning Dean had suggested trying to sweet talk one of the clerks into helping them. He never thought they'd end up kidnapping one. Their actions always boiled down to the lesser of two evils, sometimes literally. Dean was used to black and white, not the constant and varied shades of gray that littered each new job. He was tired of the innocent people that got caught in the middle. It seemed like for every one they might save, several more got caught in the cross-fire.

Dean put Melanie's license back into her wallet. Six hours ago Melanie Scarlett Lynch was a new aunt who was excited to see her new niece. She was a county registrar who he'd tried in vain to flirt with if only because it was habit. Dean looked over at her as she sat with the documents in her lap. Six hours ago she had a normal life that true to form went right down the fucking toilet the second the Winchester brothers walked through the door of her office. Dean had pointed a gun at her and threatened to shoot her. Without hesitation to protect his brother, himself and the job Dean would have shot and maybe killed this woman who'd done nothing. The worst part wasn't that he might have done it, the worst part was that he had gotten better and better at seeing the justification in every innocent life that had been lost. The "Greater Good" and all that bullshit.

Dean watched his brother with the woman. Sammy was the pied piper of the two of them. Sam had a way of making his voice and his eyes do this thing that made everyone around him trust him implicitly. Dean was a betting man and would have bet his precious car that the second Sam opened the car door Melanie would have bolted. She didn't and Dean knew it had to do with the way his baby brother handled her. There was no doubt she was still scared out of her mind but there she sat with Sam, listening to whatever he was quietly saying to her. There were times Dean envied that ease with which people took to his brother and hated the suspicion and even fear that people often showed toward him. Not for the first time Dean wondered how the two of them could be so very different.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Sam had been trying to think of a way to explain what they were looking for without making it sound like they were stark raving nuts. Coming up with creative explanations for the unexplainable wasn't new to him. It had become slightly unnerving to discover as of late that he could be just as good as his brother with bullshit. It was probably what drew him to want to be a lawyer. Sam knew that people had a natural defense mechanism to explain away anything that was slightly out of the ordinary. On some jobs he and Dean could chip away at that defense until the person figured it out for themselves and Sam and Dean could help them. On others there was no time for 'The Truth Is Out There' speech as Dean would so poetically put it. Those were the worst, asking someone to instantly have blind faith in that which could not be explained and in two total strangers to destroy it. Sam had come to learn from those jobs that most people were stronger than they gave themselves credit for. There was no doubt in his mind that Melanie was one of those people.

Sam watched as his brother paged through their father's journal. Sam looked back at Melanie. If he was expecting her to have faith in them he needed to have it in her. Sam took in a breath.

"Something evil is killing people in those houses. Five people are dead. My brother and I are trying to stop it but we can't figure out what it is until we figure out the connection," he said as quickly as he could before he could stop himself and allow his usual reason to take over.

"Something evil," Melanie repeated.

"It could be a demon," Sam answered her. Melanie did a double take.

"Well that's really smooth there, Sammy," Dean's sarcasm heavier than normal.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam countered not looking over at his brother. His eyes remained on Melanie. "Melanie, I know how this sounds but I am telling you the truth. Someone else is going to die, tomorrow, if we don't figure this out."

"Why tomorrow?" Melanie asked.

"Because that's one part of the pattern we've figured out. The killings all happen within 72 hours of each other. The last one was yesterday," Sam answered.

"And so if I help you then what?" she asked.

"We do what we need to and we take you back to town," Dean answered before Sam could. Sam exchanged a look with his brother. The words the look didn't speak out loud were: _"I think we've got her on our side…maybe."_ Melanie put the papers down on the table and rubbed her hands over her face before standing up.

"So, let me just see if I understand this correctly," she began pacing in a small path in front of the table. "You come to my office claiming to be federal agents, even though by the way land records are public information. You then kidnap me after my boss calls to tell me that you're wanted by the FBI, threaten to kill me, bring me to the middle of nowhere, then tell me that you're looking for a demon who's killed five people and who is apparently going to kill someone tomorrow unless you can figure out what house he's going to be at next. And if I help you you'll just kill the thing and then take me home? Is that about accurate?" she finished, her tirade having winded her.

Sam looked back over at his brother. Both of them shrugged. "In a nutshell, yeah," Dean replied.

"I just…I don't know how to respond to this," Melanie said. "Do you know how unbelievably insane that sounds? Four hours ago you pointed a gun at me and now…" Sam watched her turn her back to them and put her hands on the table, leaning on it heavily for support. After a moment she turned back around. "Okay let's say for a second that I believe half of what you're telling me. What if I can't help you? What if we don't figure it out?" she asked.

"We have to at least try," Sam replied as he walked up to her. "But nothing will change, if we don't figure this out we'll still bring you home tomorrow."

"What if I just said no?" she asked quietly. "Do I get to go home then?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. "But someone will have died and that'll be on you. So why not at least give us the benefit of the doubt and try to help us?"

"Melanie, please," Sam said, now only inches from her. He wanted to touch her, to somehow offer a connection. In any other situation that might have worked, it might have grounded the person enough to give them the benefit of the oh so enormous doubt. But with Melanie it might scare her off even more. So he'd have to use the next best thing, his voice. "I know how this sounds. Taking you like that wasn't supposed to happen. But someone is going to die in less than 24 hours if we don't figure this out. That's the only reason why we took you like that. We don't know how to read these records like you do. We don't know how real estate works but you do. You can help us find something that we'd miss. If there had been any other way you wouldn't be here."

Melanie looked from Sam to Dean and back again. Sam could almost hear the splitting of a crack in her suspicions about what they were saying. She moved toward one of the beds and sat down on the edge of it. She took in a deep breath and looked back up at Sam. Her dark eyes held so many conflicting emotions it almost hurt Sam to look at them. But he held her gaze. _"Believe us, trust us, help us, I know we don't deserve that from you but please,"_ he begged her silently with his own.

"Okay, okay," she said looking down at the floor, the palms of her hands rubbing at her eyes. She seemed to be addressing herself. After a few seconds she put her hands down but still didn't look back up at either Sam or Dean. "What do you want to know?"


	8. Chapter 7

_Please note – the information contained in this section is based upon my experience as a real estate legal assistant for in- house counsel in the state of Washington. In no way should the processes/procedures described here be considered legal advice. _

_Also – my thanks to those of you who have been reading this – to those of you who have reviewed thank you. Before I undertook this story I didn't truly understand what those reviews meant to a writer. Thank you as well to Sami and Rene who have beta'd this for me. _

_000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000_

They were giving her an out, or so they wanted her to believe. Help them now and tomorrow, no matter what they'd let her go. Melanie didn't buy it for a second. But the more she pretended helpfulness the better off she might be in the long run. It was perfectly clear to her now they were both way past crazy. _"Something evil…could be a demon…"_ Sam's explanation rang in her head as she asked them what they wanted to know.

"Okay well we need to know what they'd all have in common like a bank they got a mortgage from or a real estate agent," Sam said.

"You could look at the deeds of trust, once they've been recorded they are sent back to someone. Most of the time it's the lien holder," Melanie answered. "The bank they got the mortgage from," she clarified off of Dean's confused look.

"Okay that's it, you ask the questions little brother, I'm going to get food," Dean said grabbing his jacket and keys he walked out the door. Without missing a beat she watched as Sam followed, locking the deadbolt as soon as the door shut behind Dean.

"What about a real estate agent?" Sam asked, walking back to the table and sitting in front of his laptop.

"Not unless they wanted the Deed sent back to them after recording and I've only ever seen that once. And that was when the property was paid for in cash, no lien," Melanie answered.

"Okay well let's start with the bank, maybe it'll be that easy," Sam said.

"Why a demon?" Melanie asked before she could stop herself. She looked over and caught Sam's eyes. From the second she met him those eyes made her believe everything he said. She had believed for a moment that he was a federal agent, that he wouldn't hurt her and that they'd let her go tomorrow. There was gentleness and truthfulness in his eyes that didn't belong on a psychotic mad man. Even when he held the gun on her it wasn't the gun as much as his eyes that had stopped her from fighting his brother. They had been oddly comforting.

"Why a demon what?" Sam asked her back. Melanie was going to tell him to never mind but found she wanted to know the answer.

"Why is the thing killing these people a demon, why not a ghost?"

"A ghost doesn't fit the pattern," Sam answered, his attention going to the papers in his hands. Melanie was suddenly sorry she asked but she was exhausted and couldn't keep her mouth and brain working in sync.

"The pattern? Ghosts have a pattern?" she asked once again losing the ability to censor herself.

Sam looked from the papers to Melanie. She quickly avoided his gaze refusing to get sucked into those damn brown eyes. She couldn't let herself forget for a second that this was a dangerous, probably delusional man and he was holding her hostage. Her only hope was the note that she'd left for Joe. She had talked to Mrs. Russo the day before about possibly going to see her new niece and spending the weekend with her brother and sister-in-law. Then Will had called to say that his in-laws were going to be there, to come the following weekend and Melanie had visions of doing nothing for a whole weekend. Melanie hadn't updated anyone on her new plans, she hadn't seen the need. The idea that someone would need to know where she was didn't even occur to her until Dean and Sam forced her to go with them. No one would know she was in trouble until Monday morning at earliest.

"Usually," he answered simply taking her from her thoughts.

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"It's kind of what we do. My brother and I."

"Kind of what you do? You kind of hunt for ghosts and demons?"

"It's complicated."

"Apparently," Melanie responded dryly as she stood up. Her body was stiff from being tense for the past several hours. Sam was still flipping through the documents. She walked over to the table and sat in the chair opposite him. "Here, let me have those," she said reaching out to take the pile from him. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Sam stole glances at Melanie as they worked in silence. Melanie had taken all of the documents from him and began sorting them into piles. She appeared to be taking the part about finding a similarity seriously. Whether she took seriously what Sam and Dean had told her about finding a demon remained to be seen. Sam knew that it took most people time to wrap their heads around a revelation like that. Add to that the trauma of being kidnapped at gun point by two men and driven to a hotel in the middle of nowhere and it was a wonder she hadn't completely lost it. Yet.

Sam watched her unnoticed as she tried to figure out what pile the current document she was studying belonged in. She looked at once the epitome of someone who was beyond exhausted but was fighting against it as hard as she could. She needed something to eat and a few hours of sleep but Sam doubted she'd accept either. He remembered what that kind of exhaustion felt like. In the days after Jess had died the tediousness of driving in an old car with his estranged brother down forgotten highways nearly made him crazy. He couldn't sleep or eat and had never felt so numb and disconnected. If it hadn't been for Dean, Sam knew he'd be curled up in the fetal position drooling in a corner somewhere. Dean made it easy for him to finally just let go and have the breakdown that had been days in the making.

Melanie wasn't ready or maybe even able to let go. That took trust and she still saw them as a threat. To her, Sam and Dean were the bad guys and it was a position Sam hated to be in. Dean and he were protectors; Melanie should trust them, she should feel safe with them. She looked up at him and he quickly looked back to his laptop. Though the motel claimed to have wireless internet the connection was shaky and he'd had to log back on more than once.

"Okay, well I guess it was that easy," Melanie said breaking the silence. "They all had the same Notary at closing. I recognize the name, she works for an attorney in town. It's funny though, they do more probate law than anything."

"Really?" Sam replied. "So could the houses be part of an estate or something?"

"No, that would be quick claims. These are deeds of trust. They all got a mortgage from somewhere. Two of the deeds went back to Citibank and the others went to three different companies."

"So why would a probate attorney be involved in real estate?" Sam wondered out loud. To him the equation was almost solved. Probate equaled death might equal supernatural occurrences. But they had already determined that it wasn't a ghost. Then again, they'd been wrong before.

Dean's return with food interrupted Sam's thought process. "Did you get anything figured out?" he asked shutting and locking the door behind him.

"Melanie figured out that the home owners all used the same Notary when they closed on their houses, a Karen Gates," Sam replied as he stood up and began clearing the table for the bags that Dean had in his hand.

"So now we just need to figure out who else she notarized real estate documents for," Dean replied as he began to pull various paper wrapped items from the bags.

"I'm a step ahead of you. All Notaries have to keep a log of the people they notarize documents for. In our notary's case she has an online one," Sam responded. "Okay it looks like the last person she notarized real estate documents for was M. Lynch."

Melanie stood up suddenly and walked to the other side of the room.

"Melanie, is that you?" Sam asked but her back was to them. She didn't respond. One hand was on her hip and another was on top of her head. She seemed to be taking deep breaths. "Melanie?" Sam asked. "Mellie?" She turned around so fast she almost lost her balance.

"What?" she asked.

"Did this woman notarize documents at a closing for you?" Sam asked her. She shook her head.

"There is not a demon in my house, Sam," she said very slowly. It was the tone of someone exasperated, of someone who was coming very close to the end of their rope. She was back to being angry. And scared Sam noted. Though she'd said the words there was an undercurrent of uncertainty.

"Mela…" Sam started but she cut him off.

"Stop it," she yelled. Her tone made Dean stop eating and when there was food in front of Dean Winchester that took some doing. "There is not a demon in my house. There are no ghosts, no spirits, no bogey-man." Melanie paused and took in a breath to continue her tirade when Dean interrupted.

"Really?" Dean replied, his voice filled with trademark sarcasm. "Because you don't seem so sure of that." The breath that Melanie took in came out long and shaky, her hands clenching in fists at her sides.

"Don't you think that if these people were being murdered there'd be something in the papers? That someone would have noticed something? What the hell is going to be your explanation when they find me?" she asked matter of factly.

"Well since we're not planning on having anyone find you just yet it's not something I'm overly concerned with," Dean replied. Melanie didn't seem as alarmed by Dean's statement as she should have been. Sam had a feeling he knew why. He stood up and reached into his pocket and fingered the small post it note that Melanie had put on the front counter of her office as they had left. _"Joe, call brother, N S or W, - ML" _was printed in the scrawled handwriting of a person who was in a hurry and was scared. He pulled out the small piece of paper and looked down at it.

"You're really brave, Melanie," Sam said, "You're really smart too. Not a lot of people could think on their feet like this," he said handing the note off to his brother.

"Dude, what the hell is this?" Dean asked as he read the note. Sam ignored his brother and watched Melanie struggle not to react even as tears fell from her eyes. She knew exactly what Dean was holding in his hands.

"Joe doesn't have a brother, does he?" Sam asked her softly. "It's a code, for the office, if there's trouble and you can't let on, you tell Joe to call his brother. Am I right?" Melanie's answer was a sob, both hands going to her mouth as if to keep the betraying sound in. Sam walked up to her. "I heard you talking to Mrs. Russo yesterday. You talked about going to visit your brother and the new baby. So if you're not home, no one is going to be suspicious so you had to let someone know you were in trouble…" Sam was cut off when Melanie suddenly pushed her way past him and ran toward the small bathroom on the other side of the room. She slammed the door but the unmistakable sound of someone vomiting could be heard from the other side.

"Okay that's just nasty," Dean commented.

"Shut up, jerk," Sam said swiping the note back from Dean and putting it back into his pocket.

"Bitch," Dean replied.


End file.
